


candy mountain jamboree

by brandywine421



Series: Unrelated Fluffy AUs [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Get your hands off me," the guy said, but he didn't pull away.</p><p>"You can yell at me when you catch your breath.  This isn't really the best way to steal someone's table, by the way.  You could have just asked.  I'm playing wingman, but my friend's schmoozing for connections.  I don't know how it works, I mean, it's loud as hell in here, it's impossible to have a real conversation." Steve talked to try and distract the guy and calm his own nerves.  "It was so much easier when he was just looking for hookups, now he's looking for jobs."</p><p>"You're not looking for jobs?" the guy asked.  His pulse was steadier and while Steve couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses, the line of his mouth was more relaxed.  Plus, he was breathing.</p><p>"I have three at the moment.  Acting's his thing, I had to call out tonight to bring him and he's mad because I dressed too nice.  I guess I'm supposed to look bad so he looks better?  I didn't shave and I'm wearing secondhand clothes, I don't know what else I was supposed to do, skip a shower first?" Steve muttered.  </p><p>"You'd probably have to put a bag on your head, guy," the man snorted.</p><p> </p><p>(Over 10k of unapologetic fluffiness.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am trying to clean off my hard drive and this fic has been blatantly staring at me for way too long. There are some time jumps but the bits fit together enough to share. Silly little fic, but it makes me smile and hopefully it will suffice and stop staring at me now.

**# bffs**  
  
  
"Um."  
  
Steve didn't look up from his Captain Crunch.  "I already paid the rent and the power."  
  
"Oh."  
  
He raised a fresh spoonful to his mouth.  This was the last serving of food in the house and he intended to enjoy it.  
  
"Stevie..."  
  
"Don't call me that."  He finished the bowl, raised it and slurped the milk before turning to his best friend.  "What's up?"  
  
Bucky shifted uncertainly.  "Are you pissed?"  
  
"We knew what we were getting into when we moved here.  It's not easy starting out and you've already done two commercials," Steve started, his pep talk already queued up.  
  
"In eight months," Bucky muttered.  
  
"Bucky," Steve sighed.  "I'm not pissed.  I mean, I wish you'd learn to sort the laundry but there's no debt between us.  When you get your big break, you'll be paying the bills and I can be your kept man, but until then, I expect the clothes to be folded."  He pounded his fist on the table for dramatic effect and Bucky rolled his eyes.  
  
"I need you to call out of work tonight," Bucky said, sprawling into the chair across from him.  
  
"I'm closing," Steve replied.  He couldn't just lay out of work when he was the only one with a job in the household.  
  
"I need you to be my plus one, this invite was hard to get and I need the exposure," Bucky said.  
  
"I can't," Steve said but his best friend smiled because he sensed the hesitation.  He had a hard time saying no to Bucky; there was too much history between them.  They used to do everything together but they were still trying to find a balance these days with their diverging life goals.  
  
"Please?  I'll load and empty the dishwasher next week," Bucky pleaded.  
  
"You've made that promise before and it didn't last one wash cycle," Steve replied.  "You're calling my boss and explaining why the one barista he has that's not an actor is calling out for a show business reason."  
  
"On it - and I promise not to get you fired," Bucky said, perking up immediately.  
  
"Wait - what kind of party?  Because I don't have a suit, all I have is my catering uniform and that didn't work too well last time because people kept handing me their empty wine glasses," Steve reminded him.  
  
"It's casual, just wear your tightest jeans and a button down," Bucky waved his cell phone as he walked out of the room to call Steve's boss.  
  
Steve sighed.  He hoped the party had free snacks.  
  
He'd known Bucky since grade school, they banned all discussion of the first time they actually met (Bucky was mistaken, it was second grade recess and Steve wasn't sponsoring another argument).  Steve was tiny and easy to knock down, but not so easy to shut up.  Bucky kept him alive until he got his growth spurt in high school and when Bucky's parents split town; Steve and his mom took him in.  When his mom died and his college fund disappeared into the funeral costs, Bucky was the only family he had left.  They enlisted together, served together (eventually) after a couple of tours apart and took their discharges with matching grins.  
  
They had seen too much of the world through a rifle scope.  Bucky always wanted to be an actor and thumbed his nose at college and harassed Steve into following him to LA.  Steve wanted to be an artist and he could draw anywhere.  
  
It was just bad luck that Bucky's career path didn't allow for part time jobs with the sporadic audition schedules.  He'd been fired from three different Starbucks this year.  Steve had been working at the same one, bouncing at the same club and freelancing for the same publishing company for the past year.  He didn't blame Bucky but he hoped he'd find something soon.  He thought he'd be able to sleep past 5 am when he was out of the service.  
  
Bucky swaggered back into the room and put the phone down with a grin.  "Done.  Barry says you're almost maxed out on vacation hours anyway and he's going to give you a freebie."  
  
  
  
 **# meetcute**  
  
"This may have been a bad idea," Bucky said when they were finally admitted into the buzzing club.  The lights were colorful and almost blinding and it looked like everyone was walking in slow motion.  
  
"It feels like a bad trip.  What if your epilepsy acts up?" Steve asked seriously.  Bucky shoved him but kept hold of his elbow, steering him to the open bar.  
  
"Loser.  I used that excuse one time," Bucky muttered.  
  
"Why do you say it's a bad idea?  That one girl was checking you out," Steve said, managing to snag a water and a beer from a friendly bartender who caught his hand sign with a wicked wink.  
  
"No, she was checking _you_ out, I mean, where did you even get those clothes?" Bucky asked, forlorn.  
  
"Dude.  I go to the other Goodwill now, it's got tons of stuff," Steve answered.  "Plus, Donna from Shadow works at a dry cleaner's and gets me leftovers if she finds my size."  
  
"God, you and your luck," Bucky complained.  
  
Steve wasn't sure why Bucky asked him to come if he was going to resent him.  "Look, if you're going to pout because I spent 15 bucks on an outfit to come to your stupid party, I can go.  I could be making 15 bucks at work right now."  
  
"I'm just saying that the wingman shouldn't get more looks than the main attraction.  I mean, you could have at least shaved - you have one of those beards that makes ovaries quiver," Bucky said, reaching over and shaking him by the chin.  
  
"Get away from me, asshole," Steve swatted at him.  "Go mingle, I'll play home base behind the decorative plants over there out of sight."  
  
"Just grab a table and text me so I can find you.  And stop being sexy, it's not making me look good," Bucky added, thumping him and stepping into the fray with his beer.  
  
Bucky would have to give him better wardrobe instructions if he was going to be a dick about it.  
  
They'd gotten there early enough that he managed to get a booth near the stairs leading to the VIP section, which would hopefully raise Bucky's spirits,  He sat down and pulled out his cell phone.  He didn't like to openly people-watch in a place like this so he focused on _Candy Mountain Jamboree_ on his phone.  He had just beaten his high score when the stranger slid into the booth across from him and almost huddled against the wall.  
  
"Sorry.  I need to sit.  For a second."  
  
Steve wondered if he should recognize the guy, but he was wearing sunglasses inside the club and he didn't spend a lot of time watching TV or movies with his schedule.  That was Bucky's gig.  He also wondered if the guy was about to OD or something but he didn't know much about heavy drugs outside of movies and public service announcements.  He had a prescription for marijuana for his PTSD but it was legitimate since it was the only thing that worked without knocking him out.  "Are you all right?  Do you want some water?  I haven't opened it, but it's cold."  
  
The man didn't react immediately when he pushed the bottle of water across the table.  His chest was heaving but he was only managing shallow breaths and Steve figured he would treat it like a panic attack.  He had them sometimes, usually when it was raining.  Something about the sound of raindrops hitting pavement took him back to the front lines.  
  
Steve reached over and took the man's clenched fingers despite his panicked gasp.  "You need to relax.  You're freaking out."  He put his fingers over the pulse point in his wrist and knew it was too fast.  
  
"Get your hands off me," the guy said, but he didn't pull away.  
  
"You can yell at me when you catch your breath.  This isn't really the best way to steal someone's table, by the way.  You could have just asked.  I'm playing wingman, but my friend's schmoozing for connections.  I don't know how it works, I mean, it's loud as hell in here, it's impossible to have a real conversation." Steve talked to try and distract the guy and calm his own nerves.  "It was so much easier when he was just looking for hookups, now he's looking for jobs."  
  
"You're not looking for jobs?" the guy asked.  His pulse was steadier and while Steve couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses, the line of his mouth was more relaxed.  Plus, he was breathing.  
  
"I have three at the moment.  Acting's his thing, I had to call out tonight to bring him and he's mad because I dressed too nice.  I guess I'm supposed to look bad so he looks better?  I didn't shave and I'm wearing secondhand clothes, I don't know what else I was supposed to do, skip a shower first?" Steve muttered.    
  
"You'd probably have to put a bag on your head, guy," the man snorted.  
  
"Better?" Steve asked, not sure how to take that.  It was a compliment, but he always suspected compliments.  
  
The guy opened the water and took several long swallows.  "Better.  So what do you do if you're not schmoozing for fame?"  
  
"I want to write comic books.  I'm doing some freelance work, blocking and coloring, you know, learning how the industry works," Steve said.  "Are you an actor?"  
  
The man tilted his head at him.  "Seriously?"  
  
"Agent?  You could be an agent with that goatee," Steve said, rubbing his own chin, thoughtfully.  
  
"You don't know who I am?"  
  
Steve couldn't see him that well in the strobe lighting but he probably wouldn't know him in broad daylight.  "Is my roommate going to be pissed he didn't make a connection?"  
  
The man laughed.  "Tony," he said, turning his wrist where Steve was still taking his pulse and shaking his hand.  
  
"I'm Steve.  You owe me a water," he added.  
  
"I owe you more than that if you don't leak that little episode to the tabloids," Tony said.  
  
"What episode?" Steve asked, shrugging.  "And I don't know anything about tabloids except people always leave them in the bathrooms at Starbucks and I have to clean them up.  Gross."  
  
Tony laughed again.  "That's where they belong."  He hesitated.  "I'm not a junkie."  
  
"Good for you.  I hear it's bad for your health," Steve replied.  "A couple of guys I served with fell into that stuff, it's hard to shake."  
  
"You were in the service?"  
  
"Yeah.  Out a year and a half.  This kind of place will never be my scene.  You don't seem like you're a druggie, but neither do they, I guess," Steve considered.  "I have panic attacks sometimes," he added quietly.    
  
"Me, too," Tony replied after a beat.  "I thought I could deal tonight, I'm supposed to get back into the scene.  Out of rehab and back into the pit of vice."  
  
"Probably good you crashed into my booth then," Steve said.  "I'm going to get another  water, can you watch my seat?  I'll let you play _Candy Mountain Jamboree_ on my phone."  
  
Tony grinned and waved his own phone.  "I'm on level 18."  
  
"Then you can't play on mine, I'm on 24," Steve countered.  
  
  
 **# fail retcon**  
  
"God, man, I'm struggling out there," Bucky groaned, collapsing into the booth beside Steve and leaning his head back against the headrest.  "Where were you?"  
  
"Just following your instructions and hiding in the corner," Steve said, smiling so Tony didn't feel left out.  He realized they'd been talking for hours when he glanced at his watch.  It was nice to have an actual conversation without a timeline for his next clock-in.  "So no luck?"  
  
"Hell, I don't know.  I passed out some cards and got a couple of suggestions for open calls but I'll have to regroup with the agent lady," Bucky said.  He straightened up and realized that they weren't alone.  "Shit, I'm sorry Steve, I didn't know you had pulled..."  
  
"This is Tony, we're sharing a booth," Steve interrupted.  
  
Bucky's eyes widened and Tony grinned.  He pointed at him.  "Thank you, finally my ego is restored."  
  
"Steve," Bucky said darkly.  " _Steve_.  Did you make friends with Tony Stark?"  
  
He shrugged.  "I guess.  He told me I wasn't allowed to Google him until later, but I'm 49% sure he did the voice in 'My Sister, The Sharona'."  
  
Tony choked on his water and Bucky stared at Steve.  "I can't believe you're my friend."  
  
"You're lucky to have a wingman like Steve," Tony said.  He took one of the napkins and plucked the top of a pen in his mouth as he scribbled out several numbers.  "It's only on his recommendation that I'm giving these to you."  He passed the napkin to Bucky and even in the lights; he could see his friend lose all color in his face.  
  
"And for you, and only you," Tony said, passing him another napkin with his number on it.  "Only four people in the country have that number so use it wisely.  But use it," he added, tipping his water bottle in a half salute and disappearing into the busy club.  Steve registered the flashes of cameras and a hush of whispers.  
  
"Best wingman ever," Bucky whispered.  
  
"What did he give you?" Steve asked, tucking the napkin away before Bucky could snatch it.  
  
"It's for the Spectate Agency, they only take clients by referral...Steve, what did you tell him about me?"  
  
"We didn't talk about you much.  He asked if you were good and I told him how you used to recite Shakespeare to put us to sleep in Afghanistan, but that it never worked because we wanted to hear the end," Steve said.    
  
Bucky put his arm around him and pulled him into a crooked hug, kissing his forehead.  "Fuck, if I was gay, we'd be so married."  
  
"I'm too good for you, punk," Steve said, shaking him off.  
  
  
 **# txt**  
  
 _Totally stole your # when you left your phone on the table.  Call me.  :D_  
  
 _Call u or txt u?_  
  
 _Seriously?_  
  
 _Srsly_  
  
 _Is it really that hard to spell correctly?  :'(_  
  
 _not evry1 has autcorct on ther phon._  
  
 _I'm going to Pretty Woman your ass all over town._  
  
 _Idgi.  im gonna call u._  
  
  
 **# date**  
  
"You mean the hooker movie, I remember that," Steve said when Tony picked up on the other end.  He was on his lunch break having a forbidden cigarette outside of the staff exit.  He had taken up smoking after basic training and given it up when he gave up the uniform.  
  
"God, I was about to run another background check to make sure you weren't a clone or something nefarious - who doesn't know about Pretty Woman?"  
  
"Are you calling me a whore?"  Steve huffed.  "After the day I've had, I might have to look into it."  
  
"You'd make damn good money, I'd be your best client."  
  
That answered the niggling question about Tony's intentions, Steve wasn't sure he had been flirting but he had his fingers crossed after last night.  
  
"Anyway, moderation's my new motto so I can't proposition you until we go on at least one date, so what do you say?  Wait - did you Google me?  Because - "  
  
"No, Bucky filled me in.  I'm sorry to say I haven't seen many of your movies," Steve said.  "I trust him more than Google.  He says you're really good but you drink a lot.  He says you're a maneater, too."  
  
"..."  
  
"Did he miss something?" Steve asked when several long moments went by.  
  
"No, I guess I've just never heard it phrased quite like that," Tony replied after a long moment.  
  
"Honesty's important, but Bucky's been my best friend too long for me to take his dating advice.  Doing the exact opposite of the other's advice is kind of our method."  
  
"So...you're okay with it?"  
  
Steve shrugged and then smiled at his own stupidity.  "I had fun last night.  If this goes anywhere, I'll want to hear your side.  I was in the army a long time, I know not to trust anything that comes on the news."  
  
Tony laughed softly in his ear.  "I'd like to keep this low-key until then.  How are you with paps?"  
  
"They buy a lot of coffee but we don't get a lot of celebrity traffic.  I could make you dinner, if you want to come to my place.  Bucky's got some thing tonight he won't be home until after last call at the bar."  Steve only crossed his fingers on one hand so he didn't jinx himself.  
  
"Oh.  That would be nice," Tony said, sounding relieved.  "I have a bodyguard, he'll stay in the car but he'll have to meet you."  
  
"I have to make extra for Bucky anyway," Steve said.  "First date chaperone, my mother would totally approve."  
  
Tony laughed and Steve crossed all his fingers.  
  
  
 **# meet & greet**  
  
Tony's bodyguard was a jolly brick wall, more cushion than muscle but Steve could see why he liked him.  He gave the apartment a quick glance and settled in with their first gen PlayStation with a gleeful expression.  
  
Steve was only halfway done with dinner and watched Tony size up the living room across the counter in the adjoined kitchen.  He walked around slowly, cataloging the paintings and photos on the wall and picking up and touching everything on the end tables.  
  
"Is this seriously a pull-up bar?  Are you some kind of fitness fanatics?" Tony asked, stepping into the entry and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he nodded up to the bolted in pull-bar.  He wasn't wearing his sunglasses and his eyes were bright with curiousity.  He was way out of Steve's league but he always liked a challenge.  
  
"Not a fanatic, but I like to stay in shape when I can.  Habit," Steve shrugged.  "Did you find parking okay?"  
  
"Yeah, we took a taxi, Happy has a car parked outside for us later," Tony said.  "Your place is...cozy."  
  
Steve laughed.  "This is spacious for me and Bucky.  Barracks leave a lot to be desired."  
  
"Guess so.  But you're still living with your friend, wouldn't you want space after spending years crammed in with sweaty men?" Tony smirked.  
  
"Bucky's family to me and it's harder than both of us thought to afford decent apartments and find jobs.  I mean, I have three jobs and we're still barely scraping by.  He's a really good actor but he's really bad at getting jobs," Steve said as he slid the chopped vegetables into the steamer and checked the chicken in the oven.  "We still have our space.  I can't hear his one-night stands and he can't hear mine."  
  
"You have a lot of one-night stands?" Tony asked.  
  
He glanced at him and saw the teasing glint in his eyes.  "That's not really my thing.  Maybe I haven't been in LA long enough."  
  
"That sucks for you, but is awesome for me.  I'm rebooting my life and I've never had a boyfriend before.  I'm very eager to get you horizontal, or vertical, I'm not picky as long as we're both naked at the time - but dating comes first in my sobriety handbook," Tony said.  
  
"I thought confidentiality contracts came first," Steve teased.  
  
Happy hooted from the other room as he beat a level and Tony gave him an embarrassed look.  "He doesn't have to be here."  
  
Steve shrugged.  "I don't mind if you don't.  I want to get along with your friends.  You can send him out for snacks or something when it's time to make out, it'll be just like high school."  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

  
**# insult**  
  
"I'm looking over this script for a new job.  I have to send an audition tape.  I'm on the cusp of the B-List if I'm being asked to audition," Tony said, spitting out the last word.  He slumped down on the ragged couch.  
  
Steve jostled him with his arm around his neck.  "Do you want the part enough to suffer the horror of an audition tape?"  
  
Tony snorted.  "I wouldn't care if I didn't want the job.  The problem is how much I want it.  It's...big.  I know I can kill it if they give me a shot."  
  
"Then make a tape," Steve said.  "I can hold the camera for you."  
  
Tony shrugged but his eyes lost some of the vitriol.  "I need to impress them."  
  
"What's it about?" Steve asked.  "Is there a speech or something in there you could do?"  
  
Tony turned to him with wide eyes.  "Oh my God.  You're going to help me."  
  
"I don't actually own a camera," Steve admitted.  
  
"No - you know how to fight and you can teach me.  I can add it to the audition tape to show I can handle the physicality of the role," Tony said, shaking him by the shoulders and crushing him into a kiss.  "Say you'll do it."  
  
"I don't know, Tony," Steve said, thinking of accidentally hurting him and ruining everything.  "Wait.  Bucky can help, he's closer to your weight class!"  
  
Tony made a face but his eyes were still bright with excitement.  
  
"Are you volunteering me for stuff again?" Bucky walked out in his sweatpants scratching his bare belly absently.  
  
"Tony needs to learn to fight for a part."  
  
"An audition," Tony corrected.  "I don't have it for sure."  
  
Bucky shrugged, settling in the recliner and eying the remote.  "Sure.  For a price."  
  
"Bucky," Steve warned.  
  
"Name it," Tony said.  
  
"65 Platinum Candy Corn and 150 Mint Canyon Lollipops," Bucky said.  
  
Tony gasped.  "That's half my inventory!"  
  
"I need to top Steve's score so I don't have to listen to him gloat."  
  
  
 **# practice**  
  
"Okay, let's do this," Tony said.  He was sweaty and ragged after several hours of sparring but they finally had a decent hand-to-hand battle choreographed.  
  
Steve was always impressed when he saw Bucky act but Tony was a pro.  When the scene was called, he shifted into a different person in every way, Steve could always recognize the real Bucky because he knew him so well; but Tony _became_ the character he was playing.  
  
"You sure you don't want to clean up first?" Steve asked.  
  
"I need to look beat down to fit the scene.  You know your cue, Buck?"  
  
"This is my job, too, I'm on it," Bucky winked across the room.  
  
Tony turned back to Steve.  "Count for us, I'm good memorizing words, but I need the counts for the moves."  
  
"Got it. Do I get to say the whole 'lights - camera - action' thing?" Steve asked.  
  
"No, save that for the bedroom, just make sure the camera's on and say 'go'," Tony smirked.  
  
  
 **# jackpot**  
  
"Oh.  Wow," Bucky said, freezing in place at the counter where Steve was fluffing up his coffee.  
  
"It's rude to stare," Steve said absently.  He scrawled 'Loser' on the side of the cup and held it out to him.  
  
"Told you, if you find one - you find them both," Tony grinned at him from behind his sunglasses.  "Can you take a break, Stud?"  
  
The cashier let out a squeak and poked Steve in the back with her Day-Glo nails.  "That's Tony Stark - and Phil Coulson - they're huge - take a break, but Jesus, you're not even an actor!" Her voice raised from a hiss to slightly hysterical.  
  
"Mr. Barnes, I was hoping to have a word with you, Mr. Rogers can join us when he gets permission.  I know how it is holding down a 'real' job," Phil said, winking at him and leading Bucky over to a table that Happy was helpfully clearing off for them.  
  
"Who's that?" Steve asked Tony.  
  
Tony rolled his eyes but there was excitement in his face that Steve hadn't seen before.  "He's the guy that's going to restart my career - he fucking loved the audition tape.  He wants Barnes to read for the head henchman."  
  
"That's great!  He's going to flip out!" Steve smiled.  
  
"That's not all - he wants to talk to you, too," Tony said.  "So get your ass over here as soon as possible.  You're my rabbit's foot, Rogers."  
  
Steve stared after them and Clare poked him again in the side.  "Go, asshole, and make sure you get my number before you leave - I am all about being a beard for exposure."  
  
He thanked her before he actually processed her offer but didn't bother to scold her.  Bucky latched onto his wrist and yanked him into the seat beside him.  
  
"He likes me for a part," Bucky whispered.  Steve bumped shoulders with him and shared his grin.  
  
Phil greeted him with a kind smile.  Tony nudged his foot under the table but was completely straight-faced with his hands crossed on the tabletop.  "Steve, I don't know how much you know about the movie I'm working on," he started.  
  
"Steve watches PBS, he didn't even know who Tony was," Bucky muttered.  He flushed when he realized he'd interrupted.  
  
Phil didn't seem to mind and smiled as he continued.  "I'm directing a movie with a lot of action scenes and I was impressed by the choreography in Tony's audition.  He says you two are ex-military."  
  
"We served a few tours," Bucky answered.  
  
Phil's gaze flicked between the two of them.  "See any combat?"  
  
"Too much," Steve muttered.  
  
"I'd like to have you on set for some of the battle scenes, Tony mentioned that you story-boarded the movements for him," Phil said.  
  
"Bucky and I worked on it together, why do you need me?" Steve asked.  This wasn't his world, this was Bucky and Tony's.  
  
"Steve's the brains behind the action, don't listen to him.  He's in," Tony said.  
  
"I don't think I would be good for this particular job," Steve said, shaking his head at Tony.  
  
Bucky caught his glance and realized his meaning.  "Oh.  You don't want to be on set."  
  
Phil glanced between them.  
  
Steve took a deep breath but spoke in a low voice.  "I have PTSD, so explosions and smoke - it'll probably be a bad idea."  
  
Tony lowered his sunglasses and Steve avoided the concern in his eyes by kicking his foot instead.  Steve wasn't going to mess this up for his friends.  
  
"I'd like to help, I trained a lot of men, but I don't know how well I'd do on set," Steve said.  
  
Phil nodded with a sober expression.  "Of course.  I'd still like your input.  I mean, you got Stark to follow instructions and even the best directors have struggled with that lately.  I'd like you and Bucky to look over the script to double check our military advisers, make sure it sounds legit."  
  
"Why are you asking us?  I mean, you're huge and we're just two guys," Bucky said.  
  
Phil slung an arm around Tony.  "This guy's going to get his comeback and I'm going to get my blockbuster.  We only asked for an audition tape from him to piss him off, see if he was going to throw a hissy-fit but instead, we got gold.  This film's my baby, it's the first script I've written that I'm getting to direct myself but it's bouncing through tons of hands at the studio.  I trust two guys that have seen combat firsthand over some historian in a suit that's never taken a punch.  I want this to be gritty and real, even if it's only a portion of the project."  
  
"The military combat's all for flashbacks," Tony said.  "But I'll need the same fighting style for the vigilante plot."  
  
"They're bringing in martial arts specialists but on Tony's tape, you managed to make old school hand-to-hand fly like kung-fu.  That's what I want, something different," Phil said.  "You can work with Tony, and Bucky – hell, my co-writer is expanding his character right now."  
  
Bucky choked on his coffee and barely recovered.  Tony snickered when he saw the name 'LOSER' on the side of his cup.  
  
"We've already contacted your agency, Mr. Barnes and we'll need you to come in for some face to face meetings.  Steve, I'd like you to think about my offer and call me when you decide," Phil said, offering his card.  
  
"Of course, thank you," Steve said.  
  
"Boys, if you'll follow me, we've got lots of places to be today," Phil said, standing up.  Bucky hesitated but Tony motioned for him to follow Phil.  
  
"I'm going to be loading the dishwasher _forever_ for you.  Are you all right?" Bucky asked in a lower voice.  
  
"I'm good.  I'll see you at home – go – you're paying rent with your first paycheck," Steve said.  He turned to Tony.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't think about the – " Tony started quietly.  
  
"It's not something I talk about and luckily, you've never seen me have an episode.  I'll think about it, okay?  Go be famous and important and call me later," Steve said.  He settled for a bro-hug instead of a kiss because paps weren't something they were ready to deal with yet.  
  
When he reached the counter, all the staff hovered around the staffroom whispering.  He rolled his eyes and pointed at Clare.  "Bucky's been flirting with you for months and you haven't harassed him."  
  
"But that was Tony Stark _and_ Phil Coulson – you are hoarding all the good connections," Clare replied.  
  
"They're not my connections, they're for Bucky.  I think he's got a good part," Steve said.  
  
The night manager choked slightly.  
  
"Why are you even in LA?" Clare scoffed.  
  
  
 **# admission**  
  
Steve had his latest project spread across the kitchen table, on the edge of deadline because of his extra shifts and later bedtime thanks to a regular boyfriend.  He thought he was Tony's boyfriend, anyway.  He hoped.  They were probably going to have to have a conversation soon.  
  
He really liked Tony – probably too much considering his status.  He didn't have anything to be embarrassed about but if the press poked into his past too far, especially his military record; a lot of things would come out that he didn't want to deal with.  He may have been promoted to Captain because of his record in the field; but he'd lost too many men earning it.  Plus, even if he would never tell Bucky – he wasn't proud that he tapped out of the Army.  He was too weak to last another tour.  
  
He wasn't thinking about the job offer, he couldn't.  He had too much on his plate right now and until Bucky brought home an actual paycheck, he couldn't quit any of his jobs.  
  
He sat with his bottle of water and perfected someone else's art and didn't think about the job offer at all.  
  
Bucky straggled in with Tony behind him and both looked exhausted, but elated.  Bucky pulled him out of the chair, knowing to be careful with his work and embraced him tightly.  "Goddamn."  
  
"Language, Buck.  So it went well?" Steve asked, smiling at Tony over his shoulder.  
  
"I don't believe it yet, but I'm going to be in a movie," Bucky said.  "I'd drag you out for drinks but Stark's been pouting because you didn't come with us and I'll take one for the team just this once.  I'm going to wash up."  
  
Bucky shoved Tony as he walked out and Tony rolled his eyes.  It was cool they were getting along.  
  
"Hey," Tony said, pulling him down by his collar for a kiss.  "Missed you today."  
  
"I didn't need to be a third wheel while you and Bucky were all over town being famous," Steve said.  
  
"Pisses me off that they're already posting pictures of me and Bucky with rumors that we're dating when my taste is so much better," Tony said.  "My publicist says she has to meet you first…I want to keep you to myself, but it's not because I'm ashamed of you."  
  
"Is that how it works?  If we want to go out in public, it has to be approved?" Steve asked.  
  
"I don't want you torn apart by those vultures.  They'll go to your family, your friends, they'll get to people you went to grade school with – anyone to get dirt for a byline.  Don't get me wrong, being famous is awesome but invasive.  Privacy's something I don't get to have, it's a trade-off," Tony said.  He traced his fingers down Steve's cheek.  "I don't want to ruin this."  
  
"I don't have any family and I think Bucky would say mostly nice things," Steve said.  "But the whole military part of my life…I'd like to let it lie."  
  
"Why?  I mean, Bucky says you have medals, which I'm kind of hurt that I didn't know before, but that's not the point," Tony said.  
  
Steve started to gather up his pages and tucked them into the portfolio.  "I don't like to talk about it.  I mean, you don't get a medal if it's a smooth op.  I made Captain when Bucky and I were in different posts, he doesn't even know how I got most of those medals."  
  
Tony moved his hand down to Steve's shoulder, then his side before settling on his thigh; mapping his scars over the clothes.  "So it's not that you don't want them to find out, it's because you don't want to talk about it."  
  
"I have a shrink, I go every two weeks.  I talk to him," Steve replied quietly.  "I…want to be with you and I'll come to terms with it, but I want you to be sure before we open that can of worms.  But…we're exclusive, right?"  
  
"Yeah?  Why, did you want…"  
  
"No – I just want to make sure," Steve said.    
  
Tony rolled his eyes and flicked his ear.  He dropped a thick script on the table.  "Are you thinking about Phil's offer?"  
  
"This is on a deadline," Steve said, tapping the portfolio.  "And I've got a double shift at Starbucks tomorrow and I'm working 8-3 at the club after."  
  
Tony avoided his eyes.  "Um.  I might have paid your rent, if that makes a difference."  
  
"What?  Why would you do that?" Steve asked.  That wasn't part of whatever deal they were working toward.  
  
"Because I can?" Tony hesitated.  "You work too hard and Bucky's getting a decent check out of this but not right away and I'm tired of watching you stress over the bills and listen to Bucky wallow in guilt about freeloading.  It's one month and you can just, hell, buy all the condoms and lube for a while to pay me back."  
  
"I can't tell if this is charity or a bribe," Steve said.  
  
Tony rolled his eyes.  "It's your boyfriend trying to help.  You'd do it for me if I needed it – I mean, you and Bucky got me this gig.  You are my boyfriend and I'd make you a kept man if you'd let me but…"  
  
"Yeah, not going to happen," Bucky returned with damp hair in fresh clothes.  "So, Steve.  Did you make an appointment with Dr. Bruce to talk about the job offer?"  
  
"I had other stuff to take care of, Buck," Steve sighed.  "I need some time to think about it."  
  
Bucky's face hardened.  "You can do it.  You haven't had any nightmares in weeks and no panic attacks for months – you haven't even been smoking your stash since you started dating Big Shot over here."  
  
Tony scanned Steve before squaring his shoulders.  "He still has nightmares."  
  
"Not the kind he's talking about," Steve said, frowning.  He felt hunted and he didn't like it.  
  
"Yeah, you would have run for the hills already," Bucky said.  
  
That was enough.  He picked up his portfolio and turned his back on them.  Enough.  
  
"Shit, Steve, don't leave – you know I don't think before I talk," Bucky called after him.  He grabbed his arm and Steve shook him off, glaring at him when he moved in front of him.  "Steve, I'm sorry."  
  
"No you're not," Steve snapped.  He lowered his voice.  "You know how hard it's been for me, or maybe you always thought I was faking but just because I'm doing well doesn't mean I'm fixed.  You don't know my limits and you can't make my decisions for me."  
  
"I'm sorry," Bucky said and Steve knew he meant it but it didn't make it okay.  "And fuck you, I know you're not faking."  
  
"Then let me think about it.  I'm not going to ruin your big chance - or Tony's - by freaking out on your job."  He sucked in a breath and looked past Bucky to where Tony was standing in the kitchen watching their spat.  Steve pointed at him.  "Come with me, you're not in time out."  
  
"I'll do the dishes," Bucky said.  "We'll talk about this when I'm not jacked up on caffeine and you're not exhausted."  
  
"Should I go?" Tony asked slowly but Steve waved for him to follow him into his bedroom.  
  
He put away the portfolio and watched Tony close the door quietly.  "I'm sorry you had to see that.  But I hope that my congratulation plans will make you forget about that."  
  
"Congratulation plans?" Tony asked after a beat, unsure.  
  
"Yep."  Steve had to shake off the argument and his accidental tantrum.  "You had a great day, right?  You got the job, you're getting your comeback and you came here. To me, right?"  
  
Tony watched him with dark eyes as he walked over and tilted his head up for a kiss.  He weaved his fingers through his belt and unbuckled and unzipped.  "Steve."  
  
"There's plenty of time for talking later, now it's time for this."  
  
  
 **# confess**  
  
"I lost a lot of men," Steve said later when Tony was lax against his side.  "First trip out we got hit with an IED.  Our CO bled out before we could make the call for backup and we were surrounded in minutes.  It took all of us, but we got out.  Hawkins lost his leg and Burton had third degree burns on both arms and lost three fingers.  We had to hike four miles to get to the bird that hauled us out.  I had Hawkins' leg in my backpack wrapped in cold packs but it didn't matter.  They gave us medals and bigger guns and sent us back out.  Seemed like every man I watched die earned me another medal, another stripe, and a more dangerous op.  By the time Bucky got assigned to my unit, I was pretty messed up.  I had tunnel vision.  Bucky kept me sane, he still keeps me sane."  
  
Tony strummed his fingers across his chest.  "Thank you for telling me."  
  
"I'm better now.  I still can't talk about it, not all of it.  But I like my shrink and I'm finally sleeping without a prescription and I haven't had a panic attack in a couple of months."  
  
"You always talk me down, you have to teach me how to talk you down," Tony said.  
  
"I want to help with the movie, but I don't want to lose the ground I've made this far.  I don't want to go on set and embarrass you guys.  I might be okay, I can usually focus if I'm around strangers because I can keep my guard up but I need to think about it, Tony."  
  
"You're allowed to say no.  You have to know your limits, that's what my shrink says.  I've turned down jobs because they hit too close to home.  You're always allowed to say no.  I think you've done enough for Bucky for him to understand."  
  
"I can't ruin this for him," Steve whispered.  
  
"You're not ruining anything, he's already got the job.  This is all for you.  Honestly, I think he just wants you around to keep him company.  I spent the day with him and it really bothers him that you're slinging coffee while he's bombing auditions.  This is his big break and he thought it could be yours, too.  But I think I know you well enough by now to tell that it's not the kind of break you're looking for."  
   
  



	3. Chapter 3

  
**# or something**  
  
"So, are you a sober companion or something?  Stark's never been this easy to work with," the redhead said, sitting down beside him before crossing her legs and settling in.  
  
"Something.  Bucky's my best friend and Tony and I are friends, too," Steve said.  He wasn't sure if he was allowed to say he was Tony's boyfriend.  
  
"Stark doesn't make friends," the woman replied.  
  
"Why are you here?" Steve asked politely, not wanting to engage the stranger.  
  
She blinked at him.  "Seriously?"  
  
He knew he had made another mistake.  "Are you famous?  I don't watch a lot of TV."  He was relieved when Bucky approached and he could send him a desperate look.  
  
"Sorry, buddy, the makeup guy had to fix my shiner," Bucky apologized, throwing an arm around his shoulders before taking the empty seat beside him.  "Making friends?"  
  
"Your friend says he doesn't know who I am," the redhead stated, appraising him.  
  
"Steve reads books.  He didn't know who Tony was when he first met him.  Steve, this is Natasha Romanova," Bucky introduced.  "She is very famous and someone we should not offend."  
  
"You're the offensive one," Steve frowned.  
  
"Huh.  I heard some of the stunt doubles talking about you," Natasha said.  
  
"She does all her own stunts," Bucky told him and Steve didn't miss the way the woman preened.  "She was in the live action Mantis Force movie."  
  
Steve recognized that.  "I love that comic - wow, who did you play?"  
  
She huffed out a laugh, the sharpness gone from her eyes.  "I don't know where you found this guy, but he can stay."  
  
Tony appeared in full vigilante makeup and glanced between them, suspicious.  "Is Romanova actually being nice?"  
  
Natasha laughed again and several of the crew turned in surprise.  Was she not normally nice?  
  
"He hasn't looked at my tits or my legs, if it wasn't for his buddy, I'd feel unappreciated."  
  
Steve turned to Bucky, fighting a blush.  "Apologize to the lady."  
  
"Hey, you heard her, I was just appreciating.  We have a love scene next week," Bucky protested.  
  
"All the more reason for you to treat her with respect," Steve said.  
  
"There's no need for all that, she's fucking with you," Tony said, poking him to catch his attention.  "You can lecture him in the trailer later.  Phil wants you to walk me through the train scene.  I keep fumbling the double punch thing."  
  
"Is that when you're on the wires?" Steve asked.  He liked watching those scenes.  
  
"You're so easily entertained.  Stop appreciating my boyfriend, Romanova," Tony called over his shoulder as he dragged Steve through the bustling sets until they reached studio with the massive green screen and harnesses.  He just called him his boyfriend in public.  Huh.  
  
Phil waved him over to a row of monitors with a group of animated Asians and a harried interpreter.  "Thanks for coming, Steve."  
  
Steve shrugged as Tony was shuffled off to get rigged into the harness.  "Thanks for letting me watch.  What's going on?"  
  
"Tony's not getting the rhythm.  There's a little language barrier because our normal interpreter has the flu," Phil said.  
  
Steve glanced at the group of men.  One of his friends in Afghanistan taught him basic Japanese and Spanish and he continued his studies after the soldier was transferred to lead a unit of his own in Libya.  
  
"Excuse me," he said in careful Japanese, bowing politely and earning several surprised greetings in reply.  "I'm friends with Mr. Stark.  Can you tell me where he's missing his marks?"  
  
Phil stared at him as the men took control of the monitors and started replaying the footage of the scene and pointing out stutters and missteps.  
  
"Tony needs to hear a count.  Can we walk it through for them?" Steve asked the men.  
  
"I can't believe you speak Japanese," Tony muttered as he stood with the actor he was working with.  
  
"Clint Barton," the guy said, offering his hand and popping his gum.  "I caught Stark's audition tape so I know he can do this.  Hope you can work your magic."  
  
Tony gave him the finger but accepted the guy's friendly shoulder bump.  
  
Steve worked a count out for Tony, translating the choreographers' instructions for keeping his balance on the wires before finding himself behind the monitors again with Phil.  
  
"You know I'm paying you now, right?" Phil said as the crew started preparing for action.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes but he glimpsed the shine of gunmetal on the prop guns being fitted into Tony's outfit.  "I might need to step out."  
  
"There's no gunfire this scene, just hand to hand," Phil said quietly without looking away from the monitors and motioning for camera adjustments.  He waved over a spritely girl with a clipboard.  "Darcy, please adopt Captain Rogers as your primary objective.  Now, Steve, tell me how you know Japanese."  
  
"Served with a guy, Jim Morito, from Fresno.  His mother was from Portugal and his dad was Japanese," Steve said as the girl pushed a bottle of water into his hand and slid up a stool for him.  "Um."  
  
"All right, quiet on the set, get your shit together and think quietly," Phil barked.

  
  
**# assignment**  
  
"I can't believe you got the Leprechaun's Gold Bonbons," Steve told Darcy, passing her phone back and accepting his cigarette in trade.  Her score was unacceptably higher than his own.  He needed to buy a better phone.  
  
"What can I say, I'm dedicated to Candy Mountain and I'm damned well going to dance in that jamboree before I die," Darcy said with her hand over her heart.  
  
"What the hell is this?  Are you stress smoking?  Is there reason for you to stress smoke?" Tony asked, swaggering over and snitching his cigarette, taking a drag and flicking it away.  
  
"Hey," Steve said, returning the kiss when Tony made the first move.  
  
"My gaydar has to be broken," Darcy muttered.  
  
Tony latched an arm around his waist and smiled at the girl.  "Nah, I'm just a good actor.  I have to stake my claim behind the scenes."  
  
"He's making me go to some awards thing next week so it won't be behind the scenes much longer," Steve said.  
  
"Please don't tell me you're taking him to the MMVA awards without prepping him first," Darcy frowned.  
  
Steve shrugged.  "I just have to stand around and look pretty, at least that's what Bucky and the publicist lady told me."  He turned back to Tony.  "Are you done for the day?  Bucky's waiting by the snack table."  
  
"I am, but Phil wants to talk to you.  I'm pretty sure he's going to going to promise you his firstborn to work with the Li brothers tomorrow."  
  
"They're nice guys.  Come on, Darcy," Steve waved as he was dragged along behind Tony once again.  "You could ask me to walk with you instead of using bodily force."  
  
"Oh, sorry.  I just want this day to be over so I can take you home and molest you," Tony grinned.  
  
Steve laughed.  "I've got work to do when I get home, but I'm sure we can work out something."  
  
Bucky waved them over to an open space where some of the stuntmen and martial artists were sparring playfully and entertaining the clusters of curious crew and onlookers.  "Come on, Stevie, play wingman and make me look good."  
  
Steve rolled his eyes and Tony snickered.  "You're such a pushover.  Go play with your friends and then business time.  You, minion, bring me something non-alcoholic and caffeinated," he told Darcy.  
  
He spotted fighting sticks beside one of the chairs and tossed one to Bucky with a grin.  "Last check, I was up 19 to 4."  
  
The small crowd 'oohed' and Bucky spun his stick.  "Bring it, buddy."  
  
Sparring with Bucky was like dancing, he knew his friend's rhythm and he countered every strike like they were playing table tennis.  He was aware of sporadic applause and shouts but he lost himself in the match.  Bucky got too close to his throat and Steve decided to put him down, tap - tap - lunge - tackle - and Bucky was on his back in the grass and his staff was embedded in the ground a few feet away.  "Morita would have put you down ten minutes ago," Steve laughed, rolling off him.  "I'm out of practice."  
  
"You are a shitty wingman," Bucky snickered, hauling himself to his feet and offering Steve a hand up.  Tony and Phil were talking by the edge and the professionals stopped them to critique their 'match' and question their training.  
  
  
  
**# rain**  
  
It was raining.  
  
He should have watched the weather before he left the apartment.  He should have called in sick before he got in the car.  He should have told Bucky that it wasn't a good day.  
  
But he was here now and Tony was smiling and the set looked exactly like Phil's storyboards down to the streamlined rain.  
  
He was on his way to the coffee tent when the squish of his boots in the mud took his breath.  It was a visceral memory.  Shoes squishing in the mud, brain and guts squishing in his hands, the sound and instinct was the same.  
  
He pressed himself against the nearest trailer, trying in vain to take in air and take hold of reality.  This was a film set.  He was in California.  He didn't have a gun because no one was trying to kill his friends.  He was safe.  He was fine.  
  
"Hey.  _Hey_.  Shit, come on, are you having an asthma attack?  Do you need a medic?"  
  
He blinked spots out of his eyes and vaguely recognized Clint Barton and shook his head.  He manhandled him into the trailer.  
  
"Panic attack?" he asked and he managed to nod.  "Do you want me to get Tony?  Bucky?  Sit down and put your head between your knees, I'll be back."  
  
"No...they have to work, just...give me a minute..." Steve fought for air but with the roof and bright interior of the trailer, he could at least talk.  
  
"What do you need?"  
  
"Don't you have to..." Steve motioned to the door.  
  
"Not until after lunch, just, breathe or something.  Do you want some water?  Yeah, have some water..."  
  
Steve forced himself to keep down the cool swallow of water once the unscrewed bottle was placed in his hand.  "Shit."  
  
"Do you know what set you off?  Do you have an inhaler?  A pill or something?"  
  
He wanted to crawl under the trailer and hide until he could deal with this.  "No, I just need a minute.  I need to walk it off but it's raining."  
  
Clint solidified in front of him, snapping his fingers.  "So the rain's setting you off?"  
  
"Mud.  The sound of it.  I just need a minute."  
  
"You need more than a minute.  What does mud even sound like?  Get out of those wet clothes, I've got some wardrobe castoffs that might fit you.  I was going to catch up on some TV and you can hang out until you're dry and breathing like a normal dude," Clint said.  "It's probably good you're here, Natasha likes you."  
  
"What?" Steve asked.  Natasha was intimidating when he wasn't flipping out.  
  
"I like her but she thinks I'm only in it for the publicity.  But if I have your stamp of approval, maybe I can get a little more leeway," Clint said.  "I mean, Bucky swears you're lucky and I can't just kick you out of my trailer looking like a drowned cat."  
  
Steve shivered despite himself but the air conditioned trailer was bringing him back to himself.  He didn't catch the clothes Clint tossed at him, watching them fall in a heap at his feet.  "Thank you."  
  
He slowly peeled off his shirt but had to catch his breath before he could manage to pick up the borrowed one.  
  
"Wow, how much combat did you see?  _Jesus_ , bro," Clint muttered, scanning his scars before wrestling his arms into the shirt and crouching down to untie his shoes.  
  
"What are you doing, Barton?" Natasha's voice startled him out of his shock for a moment.  
  
"Steve doesn't like rain.  He's going to chill out for a bit and have his moment without looking like a diva in front of the crew," Clint said.  
  
"Oh.  Of course.  Steve, hold my coffee, that's a good boy."  
  
He blinked at her when she wrapped his hands around a hot plastic cup.  "I'm not a puppy."  
  
"No, but you are irrationally wet," Natasha said.  
  
"That's what she said," Steve said absently.  
  
"If we turn around, can you change out of your wet jeans or will you just stand there?" Clint asked.  
  
"I can change my own clothes," Steve replied.  Even if he had trouble with the shirt, and maybe the shoes.  He'd feel better if he was dry.  "I can't believe I'm freaking out in front of strangers."  
  
"We're not strangers anymore, Steve," Natasha said, rolling her eyes.  "Pants off or I'm calling Stark."  
  
The sound of the rain distracted him from the order and he watched splashes in the dirt through the window.  
  
He was lost for a while and when he finally took a breath, he found himself bundled in a blanket with Natasha strumming her manicured fingers through his hair.  She was smiling at something Clint was muttering about and Steve was warm and steady when he raised his head from her shoulder.  
  
"Hey, buddy," Clint said.  "How're you feeling?"  
  
"Stupid.  What time is it?" Steve asked.  
  
"A little after 10.  You were only out of it for a couple of episodes," Natasha said.  "We stalled Barnes and Stark, told them you were helping us run lines.  If it helps, the boss says they're on fire."  
  
"I made a deal that I wouldn't be on set for combat scenes.  I forgot about the rain," Steve said, surfacing enough from his trance to focus.  
  
The two actors looked at him expectantly.  
  
He sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face.  "I saw a lot of combat, more than Bucky.  I didn't take a medical discharge, but I could have because I was barely functional off the field.  I'm not crazy, but I would have been if I didn't have Bucky and my therapist.  I'm sorry you had to see me like that but I appreciate you helping me through it."  
  
"It wasn't that bad, you're like a big puppy.  Dry you off, warm you up and give you a snuggle and you'll calm right down," Natasha said, patting his hand.  "Are you on medication?"  
  
He shook his head.  "I have marijuana to help me sleep but that's as far as I'll go.  I don't like losing control and I don't want another crutch when I'm leaning on Bucky so much already.  Tony's the first guy I've gone out with since, hell, before I enlisted.  I want to be able to have a relationship where my mental health isn't an issue."  
  
Clint snorted.  "Dude, I'm pretty sure Bucky considers you his crutch, if anything."  
  
"And dating Stark means mental health is already an issue.  He's crazy and you're crazy to be going out with him," Natasha said primly.  "But since you're not into tits, I guess I can accept it if he treats you right."  
  
Clint rolled his eyes.  "Awful wingman."  
  
"I've heard that before," Steve muttered but he felt better.  
  
"Darcy's coming to fetch you when your boys are done," Natasha said.  
  
"Okay.  Thank you," Steve repeated.  
  
Natasha studied him curiously.  "It rains, like, once a week, is that the trigger?"  
  
"Mud," Clint corrected.  "Isn't that what you said?"  
  
Steve hesitated.  "It's the sound.  The feeling of it.  The...squish."  He focused on the cartoon ponies on the tiny TV.  "This kid, Olson, had bright red hair and it grew out in orange fuzz.  Found his team behind the lines, bunkered down tight but when I checked him, he was sticky.  I raised his head and...it squished, right in my fingers, it was sticky and clumpy.  Not blood, not all of it.  The sound gets me."  He took a deep breath and shrugged.  "It's better now.  I can use red paint and eat pasta with red sauce.  That's improvement, I'm so much better now."  
  
"Fuck," Clint hissed.  
  
"It's not like it is in the movies.  My triggers are more about texture, taste and sound over sight.  I've been watching some of Tony's old movies because I'm 'embarrassingly uncultured' according to Bucky and it's fine; but instant coffee and mud set me off.  I should have stayed home today but I didn't think ahead.  It's been months since I had a bump."  
  
"Just a bump, though.  We all have them.  I've relapsed four times in the past three years," Natasha said quietly.  "Bulimia."  
  
"I still drink in public, but I've been in AA for years," Clint shrugged.  
  
"Bumps," Natasha said.  "Get over the bump and things will level off again but we need them to remind us we're making progress."  
  
Bucky cleared his throat from the end of the trailer.  "Everything okay in here?"  
  
"We're bonding," Clint said, giving him a thumbs up.  
  
"I forgot how you get in the rain, is it bad?" Bucky asked after a beat, locking eyes with him.  
  
"I think I'm okay.  Clint and Natasha helped me out, that's why I'm wearing someone else's clothes," Steve replied.  "How'd the scene go?"  
  
"Phil liked it, he's switching up some dialogue and then we're going again," Bucky said.  "I have time to drive you home."  
  
Steve took a deep breath.  "No, I can do this.  I think it's out of my system.  But I'll need an escort."  
  
Bucky nodded.  "I'll be right back, I have your stuff in Tony's trailer."  
  
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Clint scanned him, visibly doubtful.    
  
Steve smiled.  "Bucky's here."  
  
"I'm surprised you told him," Natasha said thoughfully.  
  
Steve shrugged.  "He's one of the few people I trust unconditionally.  I can't expect his help if he doesn't know that I need it."  
  
Bucky stepped in with a bag.  "Clothes that fit, clean boots and menthols."  
  
He stepped into the tiny bathroom to change and he could hear the muted voices.  
  
_"How bad?"_  
  
_"He just spaced out, he didn't talk for a couple of hours and then he snapped out of it."_  
  
_"Okay, that's good.  Thanks for looking after him."_  
  
_"Anything else we should have done?"_  
  
_"On the fly, probably not."_  
  
He stepped out, feeling steadier in his own clothes.  
  
Bucky held out small canister of breath freshener and he sprayed it in his mouth, wincing at the bite.  It wasn't smoke or blood or gunpowder and it cleared his vision another notch.  He took the Ipod from him and slipped the buds into his ears.  "What did you get for me?"  
  
"That techno shit," Bucky muttered.  "Taste and noise, that's his band-aid."  
  
"I am going to get so baked when we get home," he told Bucky, holding his fist out for a bump.  
  
"Yep, I'm going to Instagram the hell out it," Bucky smiled.  He gave Clint and Natasha a lazy salute.  
  
"I'll see you later, guys," Steve said, hitting play on the Ipod so he didn't hear the rain or the mud when Bucky led him outside with an arm around his shoulders.  
  
  
**# time out**  
  
"Hey," Tony said, smiling.  He must have seen something on his face and stepped closer.  "What's wrong?"  Steve opened his mouth to answer but Tony took ownership of his arm and glared at Bucky instead.  "What happened?"  
  
"Do I look bad?" Steve asked.  
  
"Just shaky, not bad.  Don't go anywhere, stay with Tony and I'll be right back," Bucky said.  
  
"You don't have to drive me home, I can - " Steve started.  
  
"Whoa, time out.  Happy's at the crafts table, he can drive you anywhere you need, but why are you shaky?  Do I need to sic him on somebody?" Tony interrupted, concern flashing in his eyes.  
  
Steve smiled.  "No, Tony.  I just had a...slip.  The mud, the rain, it makes me shaky sometimes."  
  
"Yeah, so he needs to go home and chill.  Walk it off and all that," Bucky said, looking at Steve pointedly.  
   
Tony smoothed his hands down Steve's arms.  "Happy will drive you home and I'll catch a ride with Bucky.  He can smoke with you and then you can air the place out before we get there.  Do you, hell, is there a sponsor or something you should call?  I don't know how this works."  
  
"Steve."  
  
He turned his attention to Bucky and away from Tony's hands.  
  
"It's your turn to work.  I'll be fine, I'm already fine.  I'll still be fine when you get home," Steve said, hoping the words didn't sound forced.  
  
"Just saying you're fine doesn't make it true," Tony whispered.  "I'll get Happy to bring the car around."  



	4. Chapter 4

  
**# showtime**  
  
"I'm presenting so I'll have to leave you alone a bit at the show," Tony said as he corrected Steve's tie.  "Goddamn, you look good in a tux."  
  
"I'll get a seat, right?  I won't be standing by the wall twiddling my thumbs?" Steve asked.  
  
Tony smiled.  "Phil's going to be there, and Natasha and they'll look after you.  It's more relaxed than some of the other award shows so people move around a lot to chat.  People are going to call you my boytoy."  
  
"I've seen the headlines, Clare shows me the best ones on our smoke breaks.  My manager's over the moon because of the pap traffic, though.  I'm up for a raise," Steve smiled.  
  
"They're going to be devastated when I finally convince you to quit and be my cabana boy," Tony said, pulling him down for a chaste kiss.  "I'm going to reward you, thoroughly later, but we're on a timeline and Happy's taking us by In And Out before the show."  
  
"You don't have to say anything else to convince me," Steve laughed.  
  
Tony was more nervous than he was letting on so Steve distracted him with commentary until his eyes were clear and settled.  If that included cuddling on the limo seat, it was just a lucky perk.  
  
"Okay, game time," Tony said when Happy pulled into the line of limos.  Steve kissed his forehead and wrinkled his face at the taste of makeup.  
  
Tony barked out a laugh.  "You're going to do fine."  
  
He's blasted with camera flashes but Tony held tight to his hand and he matched steps as they walked the actual red carpet.  
  
"Okay, so the photographers will want some of me solo and I'll wave you in.  We'll be done with this before you know it," Tony said, leaning in for a chaste kiss before they were waved through to the press platforms.  
  
He tried to take as much of it in as he could, listening to Tony evade the media's intrusive questions about his recovery mixed with compliments and schmoozing over his new movie.  He made sure to stay out of the camera line but in Tony's line of sight.  He really didn't want to get lost at the awards show when they still had to make appearances at three different afterparties.  
  
"Your turn, babe, welcome to the jungle," Tony said, taking his hand with an apologetic smile and whisper as he pulled him over to the spotlight.  
  
"I'm pretty sure my stylist was more excited about dressing my date.  Steve Rogers," Tony said, sliding an arm around him as the flashbulbs and moderated questions began.  
  
  
**# mingle**  
  
"That totally sucked," Steve said, nearly collapsing in the seat with his namecard and pulling Tony down with him.  
  
"That was tame, buddy," Tony laughed softly.  "Those interviews don't even count as paps."  
  
"So you're okay?" Steve waited for him to meet his gaze.  
  
Tony smiled and leaned over for a kiss that was brighter than any of the camera flashes.  "I'm really glad you're here."  
  
"If I plan on sticking around, and I do, then I have to get used to it, right?"  
  
"Damn right," Tony smirked.  
  
Natasha appeared showing more skin than Steve was comfortable with in a public place but the gown was gorgeous.  "I forgot how much I hate everyone in this business.  What parties are you hitting after?  I need an entourage."  She swiped Steve's water glass and drained it in a few gulps.  
  
"Um.  Hi, Natasha, how are you?  We're fine," Steve said.  Tony laughed and the stern woman smirked and crossed her legs.  
  
"Sorry.  I just want to go home to my cats, I've had a headache since they sewed this dress on me," she frowned.  
  
Steve patted her hand.  "You look really nice.  Bucky sent me a picture of Clint crying into his beer watching the red carpet coverage."  
  
"He's such a loser, he knows I couldn't invite him even if I wanted to.  I had to bring Jasper, my agency made the deal months ago," she waved off absently.  
  
"Speaking of agencies, my publicist is already getting inquiries about yours, Boytoy of mine," Tony said, snickering at his phone.  
  
Natasha bumped shoulders with Steve.  "You made quite the splash."  
  
"I'm only here as a plus-one, why does anyone even care?"  Steve waved them off when they both opened their mouths to respond.  "I know, I know, but things like this are in your job descriptions, not mine."  
  
"Dating a celebrity is a full time job, buddy," Tony said, kissing him on the cheek fondly.  "I have to go mingle, stay with Natasha and use your rape whistle if anyone gets too close."  
  
"I'll scare everyone away that I don't need to schmooze with," Natasha said distastefully.  She waited until Tony disappeared into a cluster of tuxedos before she spoke again.  "How's he doing?"  
  
"He's okay, I think.  We had ice cream earlier," Steve said.  He held her gaze.  "Do you think I'm being a crutch?"  
  
She smiled.  "Actually, no.  You show him that you can still have fun sober, that it's not weakness to keep a shrink on retainer and that he's just as good of an actor now as he was when he started.  You like him without the alcohol and I don't know if he's ever had that before.  You support him, just like Bucky supports you, and that doesn't make you a crutch."  
  
"Huh," Steve considered.  He nodded his appreciation for the description.  He hadn't known Tony during his bad days but it was time he started thinking of the future and that couldn't happen before they reconciled the pasts they had to build from.  
  
A stick-thin lady with a smooth but pinched face from too much plastic surgery slid into Tony's seat beside him.  "Natasha, sweetie, introduce me to your friend."  
  
Natasha glanced at him apologetically and he figured she needed to 'schmooze' with this one.  
  
"Hi, I'm Steve Rogers," he said, shaking her manicured hand.  "Apparently, I'm Tony's new boytoy."  
  
"He's not in the business, Anika," Natasha added.  
  
"Oh, honey, anyone that goes out with Stark is in the business.  So, aspiring actor, model or reality star?  Ooh, maybe musician?  Don't look at another agency until you talk to me," Anika said, her sharp eyes scanning Steve inappropriately.  
  
"I'm an artist, I work freelance in comics around town," Steve answered.  "Sorry, I'm really not in Tony or Nat's kind of business."  
  
Anika was visibly disappointed.  "Not even modeling?"  
  
He shook his head.  "Sorry.  It's nice to meet you anyway, how do you know Natasha?"  
  
"My agency handles her modeling contracts, got her the new Revlon campaign, congratulations, by the way," Anika said in Natasha's general direction.  
  
"Thanks," she snorted.  
  
Anika was already scanning the room for another target.  "Since she put some meat back on her bones, she's been a hot commodity.  Nobody's into sticks anymore.  I better speak to Jasper, do some PR for firing him in case he heats up again."  She disappeared into the sea of celebrities he didn't know before he could fumble a goodbye.  
  
Natasha stared after her blankly.  "I think that's the first time she ever gave me a compliment."  
  
"She seemed nice," Steve shrugged.  
  
"You think everyone's nice, Steve.  Anika's definitely not 'nice'."  
  
Phil appeared with several strangers and gave Natasha kisses on both cheeks before addressing Steve.  "I'm glad you're here, I wanted to introduce you to Stanley, his film's up for an award."  
  
Steve was nervous suddenly, Stanley Jenkins was one of the biggest animators in the industry and he had watched his films repeatedly.  He'd brought a lot of his favorite comics to life.  
  
"Mr. Rogers, it's great to meet you.  Phil's shown me some of your storyboards and the Li brothers can't stop talking about you.  I'd love to see more of your work..."  
  
"After you're done consulting for me, of course," Phil interrupted.  
  
"Phil doesn't like to share," Natasha winked.  
  
Mr. Jenkins snorted.  "Of course."  He focused on Steve again and he was more nervous than he'd been walking the red carpet gauntlet.  "My assistant looked you up, I'm particularly interested in a short film she found buried on YouTube."  
  
He shook his head.  "I don't know about any film."  
  
"The Scourge of Hydra?" Jenkins questioned.  
  
Steve was honestly surprised.  "That's on YouTube?  Bucky was taking a voiceover class when we first got to LA and he used one of my comic drafts to splice together a clip."  
  
"Phil, can you look after him?  It's eight thirty, I have to go break up with Jasper while he's with the US Weekly people," Natasha said, winking at Steve and moving gracefully into the growing crowd of celebrities he didn't know.  
  
Jenkins slid into her seat and Steve realized the man was genuinely interested.  "Tell me more about Red Skull."  



	5. Epilogue Bits One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Still can't get over how popular this turned out to be. Don't know if it'll last, but these few updates are not *as* fluffy as the first installments. I want to play a little more with the dynamics of dating an addict and the PTSD elements and play with a few more PoV's.)

"You going to the hotshot's place tonight?" Bucky called into the back hall.

Steve doesn't know if he's every going to be comfortable in an apartment this big but after months of discussion, a few tears and a few more shouting matches; they'd decided to keep the roommate situation the same and move into a decent location with real locks.  Their bedrooms were also on very separate ends of the apartment for their respective overnight guests.

He spent a lot of nights at Tony's anyway.

"He has a thing for that movie he's doing next month, that's if he's back from New York," Steve said.  "I'm meeting Sam and some of the guys at Gino's."

Bucky didn't answer right away but Steve didn't expect him to come along.  Steve kept in touch with a lot of the soldiers he served with despite his own issues with PTSD but Bucky only went to the bigger reunions instead of regular, friendly hangouts.  Now that Bucky was getting bigger parts - he was top billing on a rom-com coming out in a few months - he had a pap following now that put some of the guys on edge.

Steve's phone rang when he was scrubbing at the ink that would soon be like tattoos on his skin if he couldn't get it off.  He hit the speaker button with his elbow and heard a party.  He smiled.  "Tony?"

"Heey, Stevie!"

He doesn't recognize that tone of voice.  "Hey, what's going on?  Did you make it back in time for your thing?"

"Nah, still in New York - hey, you wouldn't be mad at me if I fell off the wagon for a night, would you?  I mean, just a little bit, one leg off the wagon, still on board, though," Tony said.

"Uh.  Shouldn't you call your sponsor, Tony?"  This was new.

"But you're so much hotter than him and I actually care about what you say," Tony countered.

Going by his slur, he'd gotten a head start.  "Forgiveness is easier than permission, right?" Steve muttered.  "What are you doing?"

"Oh my God, you totally should be here - it's one of my ex's new clubs and the artwork on the wall is right up your alley, well, maybe, it's colorful and everything - " Tony babbled.

He was hanging out with his ex?  This was really new.  "Tony, is everything all right?  I thought you were trying to get back here for a meeting with your team."

"So boring, I've earned a little time out from being boring for a night, right?  I think so.  Look, I love you, yeah?"

"Yeah, I love you, too, Tony, but are you sure you want to - " Steve started.

"You always tell me you're not my sponsor, so don't even finish that sentence.  I'll see you in a couple of days, okay?  I gotta go - I haven't seen Micki in years - "

The phone flashed off and Steve stared at it blankly.

"Uh, yeah, I'll come out tonight," Bucky said from the doorway.  He nodded his chin toward the phone.  "You gonna call him back?"

"Sounded like he was talking to 'Micki'," Steve muttered.

Bucky scoffed.

"I'll text Happy and see who's on his security detail in New York," Steve said.  He'd been told that he was lucky that Tony hadn't relapsed yet - everyone seemed to have an opinion on his relationship now that he was a regular on a celebrity's elbow - but he'd hoped Tony would be the exception to the LA rule.  Steve's career had picked up and he could honestly say he was a full time graphic artist (only working part-time as a stunt choreographer and consultant for favors and fun).  Even with their busy schedules, he'd thought they were doing okay.

He shook off his doubts.  He couldn't do anything until Tony got home anyway.  Steve didn't think calling him back and demanding explanations would matter one way or another if his boyfriend was wasted.  This was a conversation they needed to have sober.

 

* * *

 

"Few paps at the gates, that Parker kid called a head's up," Bucky said, twirling the keys on his finger when Steve stepped out in clean (enough) jeans and a jacket.  Parker was one of the paps that was assigned to follow Bucky and he'd mistaken Steve for a celebrity groupie and accidentally made friends with him when he'd been waiting to pick Bucky up from photo shoots.

"More than usual?" Steve questioned.

"Your boy's making an ass of himself and it's hitting the gossip radars," Bucky said, apologetic.  "You know this means I get to kick his ass when he gets back, right?"

Steve nodded absently.

"Steve."

"I only shame your exes when they mess with you," Steve replied, focusing on him.

"Yeah, because you can't beat up girls," Bucky replied.

"I have to talk to him in person before it comes to that.  Something must've happened to set him off, you know?" Steve asked.  "But I still want to go to Gino's.  We're in the third round of the trivia championship.  We'll get free appetizers at the bar for life if we win."

Bucky blinked at him.  "You go to Gino's that much?"

"Every Tuesday night.  You're not usually around on Tuesdays," Steve replied.  "I'm on history, Sam's on sports, Dugan's on film and Gabe's on music and tags in on all the rest.  You'll have to sign in as a guest and won't get the final prize if we win.  Sorry," he added.

Bucky snorted out a laugh.  "Fucker.  Let's go.  You'll have to give Parker the big scoop about your stats at trivia."

Steve hesitated.  "Peter sits in with us sometimes, he's a science genius."

His phone buzzed a text when they were on the highway.  _*Do you want me to beat up my boyfriend again and get some of them off your trail?*_   Natasha was so kind, but Steve wouldn't do that to Clint.

Tony had only called him from New York a couple of hours ago and the waves were already hitting him in LA.  Steve thought he was used to being a sort-of-celebrity but he counted at least three cars with photographers following them into town.

"They're going to follow you hardcore for a while.  What's on your schedule this week?" Bucky asked.  Steve knew Bucky had reshoots to do on location starting tomorrow and wouldn't be nearby.

"I was planning on working from home most of the week except for a couple of meetings I have on Thursday with Cartoon Network."  Bucky glanced at him.  "Yes, you're still on the call list to voice the Sarge."

Bucky grinned.  "Damn right."

The lucky meeting he'd had with Stan Jenkins had turned into an opportunity to get his name on the map with the legend's first TV series out of Steve's Red Skull doodles from years before.  He was really excited, and proud, of the opportunity.  He wouldn't let himself believe it was real until he saw it onscreen.

His phone rang and Steve sighed and raised the phone to his ear  "Hey, Pepper."  He liked Tony's publicist well enough but sometimes she seemed to think she got paid to boss Steve around, too.

"Where are you right now?"

"I'm on my way to Gino's - "

"Turn around and go home, you need to stay inside until Tony comes back to fix this mess - "

"Pepper," he interrupted.  "I'm not going home.  I go to Gino's every Tuesday."

"Have you seen the news at all?"

"He called me earlier, sounded pretty drunk and one of my buddies gave me the head's up but I already have plans.  There's no reason for me to sit at home because my boyfriend's being a dick."

"We need major damage control right now, Steve, your relationship with him is a major selling point for a lot of his publicity offers."

Steve frowned.  "Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean - "

"I'm dating Tony, not his resume.  You should be talking to him, not me, about his career," Steve said.

Bucky reached over and took the phone.  "Ms. Potts?  You can, politely, fuck off if you're calling Steve to make this his responsibility."  He passed it back with a triumphant expression.  "She hung up."

"Thanks," Steve said.

"Got to practice this whole 'shaming the ex' strategy.  Stark's probably got his face insured."

"He's not my ex.  Natasha says her legs have special insurance," Steve replied absently.

"I should get my ass insured," Bucky said thoughtfully.

Steve laughed.  "I want to sit in on that meeting with your insurance agent."

 

* * *

 

Sam gave Steve a bro-hug after the bouncer had politely walked them through the busy bar where reporters were waiting.  He appreciate the large 'NO PHOTOGRAPHY' sign newly posted outside even if the cover fee was doubled tonight.

"Barnes, what do you know about Russian Literature?" Gabe asked, sliding over for them to sit.

Bucky grinned.

"Have you checked Instagram in the past 20 minutes or so?" Sam asked Steve quietly.

"No, but I know Tony's making a fool of himself in New York," Steve sighed.

"He's also making out with fools," Dugan remarked gruffly, pushing out his phone.  "My wife says she's sending him hate tweets."

Steve's gut dropped when he saw his boyfriend sucking face with Brock _Fucking_ Rumlow.  "The hell."

"Steve - " Sam started to apologize.

"We're going to win this fucking match and then I'm going home to leave angry voicemails," Steve announced, pushing the phone back.  "No more talk about this."

He pulled out his phone while the waitress took everyone's drink orders and texted Tony.  _*Srsly?  he btr b wrth it asshole. >:( *_

_*what are you talking about?*_

_*yr instagrm is pblic asshole - all ovr nws.  rly pissd rt now*_

Steve tucked his phone in his pocket and focused on Sam's reassuring hand on his shoulder and the bartender announcing tonight's instructions for the game.

"If we lose, we get to blame it on his ex," Bucky announced when they passed out the buzzers.  Steve didn't correct him on the 'ex' comment this time. 

 

* * *

 

"He's called nineteen times in the past twenty minutes.  He's going to run your battery dead," Bucky hissed, forcefully turning Steve around and snatching his phone from his pocket.  There was only so much stupidity Bucky could take from Steve in one night.

He loved the guy, more than a healthy heterosexual man should admit to, but Steve wasn't as smart as his trivia stats and military record would brag.  Steve would get an 'F' in relationship choices.

Bucky couldn't be angry at Steve for falling for Tony Stark, he even liked the guy, but he'd known that their marshmallow relationship wouldn't last.  But they had rules and Bucky couldn't tell Steve outright that getting involved with a movie star in addiction recovery was a bad idea.  Normal people would already know that, but Steve only saw the bright side even when he had to make one up in his head.

He was lucky that Steve was insanely picky about his boyfriends, but he was unlucky that his picks always missed the obvious flaws.  Tony Stark may have kickstarted his and Steve's careers - but if he broke Steve's heart, well, he would regret the day he met Bucky.

"I'm running interference before you have to ask me to," Bucky announced, taking the phone to the edge of the room and sliding his finger across the screen to answer.  Steve frowned but Sam and Dugan pulled him toward the bar.

"Steve!"

"Nope, but you get me for five whole minutes before I block your number.  You know it'll take Steve days to figure out how to undo it," Bucky answered.

"Bucky - look, I messed up but I didn't cheat - "

"Kissing is cheating, it's in the rulebook under 'how to be an asshole'," Bucky replied.  "What's going on with you?  Drinking, and making out with that dick, Brock?  What are you thinking?"

"Hell, I wasn't thinking - the meeting in New York was such bullshit and I fired my driver and got stranded in fucking Brooklyn, I mean, gross - "

Bucky subtracted another point.

"And my phone shit out and I ran into Ralphie who invited me to this thing and why the hell not after the day I had - but I only had a couple before I called Steve, I mean, I didn't make that part up, right?  I called him first?"

Bucky took a deep breath to soothe his building rage.  "You had already been drinking when you called him.  You should have called your sponsor."

"I didn't cheat - it was a dare, Micki dared me to do it, said I was soft now, and I'm not soft - loving Steve doesn't make me soft - " Tony continued.

"You're still slurring your words.  If you want to talk to Steve before I convince him to dump you, then you'll do exactly what I say.  Are you listening?"

"Asshole.  Yes."

"Call your sponsor.  Then call Ms. Potts.  You will not call Steve but you can call me at least four hours after you've done both of those things and we'll renegotiate.  Got it?"

"I already talked to Pepper.  My sponsor's meeting me at the airport."

Bucky was glad he'd at least done something in the past few hours.

"Tell him I'm sorry and that I didn't cheat.  I love him.  I don't cheat."

"Get your shit together and maybe you can tell him yourself," Bucky said.  


End file.
